_THE PRESENT CHRISTIAN LIFE, A RISEN LIFE._
"If then ye were raised together with Christ, seek the things that
are above, where Christ is, seated on the right hand of God. Set
your mind on the things that are above, not on the things that are
upon the earth. For ye died, and your life is hid with Christ in
God. When Christ, _Who is_ our life, shall be manifested, then shall
ye also with Him be manifested in glory."--COL. iii. 1-4 (Rev.
Ver.).
We have now done with controversy. We hear no more about heretical
teachers. The Apostle has cut his way through the tangled thickets of
error, and has said his say as to the positive truths with which he
would hew them down. For the remainder of the letter, we have
principally plain practical exhortations, and a number of interesting
personal details.
The paragraph which we have now to consider is the transition from the
controversial to the ethical portion of the Epistle. It touches the
former by its first words, "If ye then were raised together with
Christ," which correspond in form and refer in meaning to the beginning
of the previous paragraph, "If ye died with Christ." It touches the
latter because it embodies the broad general precept, "Seek the things
that are above," of which the following practical directions are but
varying applications in different spheres of duty.
In considering these words we must begin by endeavouring to put clearly
their connection and substance. As they flew from Paul's eager lips,
motive and precept, symbol and fact, the present and future are blended
together. It may conduce to clearness if we try to part these elements.
There are here two similar exhortations, side by side. "Seek the things
that are above," and "Set your mind on the things that are above." The
first is _preceded_, and the second is _followed_ by its reason. So the
two laws of conduct are, as it were, enclosed like a kernel in its
shell, or a jewel in a gold setting, by encompassing motives. These
considerations, in which the commandment are imbedded, are the double
thought of union with Christ in His resurrection, and in His death, and
as consequent thereon, participation in His present hidden life, and in
His future glorious manifestation. So we have here the present budding
life of the Christian in union with the risen, hidden Christ; the future
consummate flower of the Christian life in union with the glorious
manifested Christ; and the practical aim and direction which alone is
consistent with either bud or flower.
I. The present budding life of the Christian in union with the risen,
hidden Christ.
Two aspects of this life are set forth in verses 1 and 3--"raised with
Christ," and "ye died, and your life is hid with Christ." A still
profounder thought lies in the words of verse 4, "Christ _is_ our life."
We have seen in former parts of this Epistle that Paul believed that,
when a man puts His faith in Jesus Christ, he is joined to Him in such a
way that he is separated from his former self and dead to the world.
That great change may be considered either with reference to what the
man has ceased to be, or with reference to what he becomes. In the one
aspect, it is a death; in the other, it is a resurrection. It depends on
the point of view whether a semicircle seems convex or concave. The two
thoughts express substantially the same fact. That great change was
brought about in these Colossian Christians, at a definite time, as the
language shows; and by a definite means--namely, by union with Christ
through faith, which grasps His death and resurrection as at once the
ground of salvation, the pattern for life, and the prophecy of glory. So
then, the great truths here are these; the impartation of life by union
with Christ, which life is truly a resurrection life, and is, moreover,
hidden with Christ in God.
Union with Christ by faith is the condition of a real communication of
life. "In Him was life," says John's Gospel, meaning thereby to assert,
in the language of our Epistle, that "in Him were all things created,
and in Him all things consist." Life in all its forms is dependent on
union in varying manner with the Divine, and upheld only by His
continual energy. The creature must touch God or perish. Of that energy
the Uncreated Word of God is the channel--"with Thee is the fountain of
life." As the life of the body, so the higher self-conscious life of the
thinking, feeling, striving soul, is also fed and kept alight by the
perpetual operation of a higher Divine energy, imparted in like manner
by the Divine Word. Therefore, with deep truth, the psalm just quoted,
goes on to say, "In Thy light shall we see light"--and therefore, too,
John's Gospel continues: "And the life was the light of men."
But there is a still higher plane on which life may be manifested, and
nobler energies which may accompany it. The body may live, and mind and
heart be dead. Therefore Scripture speaks of a threefold life: that of
the animal nature, that of the intellectual and emotional nature, and
that of the spirit, which lives when it is conscious of God, and touches
Him by aspiration, hope, and love. This is the loftiest life. Without
it, a man is dead while he lives. With it, he lives though he dies. And
like the others, it depends on union with the Divine life as it is
stored in Jesus Christ--but in this case, the union is a conscious union
by faith. If I trust to Him, and am thereby holding firmly by Him, my
union with Him is so real, that, in the measure of my faith, His fulness
passes over into my emptiness, His righteousness into my sinfulness, His
life into my death, as surely as the electric shock thrills my nerves
when I grasp the poles of the battery.
No man can breathe into another's nostrils the breath of life. But
Christ can and does breathe His life into us; and this true miracle of a
communication of spiritual life takes place in every man who humbly
trusts himself to Him. So the question comes home to each of us--am I
living by my union with Christ? do I draw from Him that better being
which He is longing to pour into my withered, dead spirit? It is not
enough to live the animal life; the more it is fed, the more are the
higher lives starved and dwindled. It is not enough to live the life of
intellect and feeling. That may be in brightest, keenest exercise, and
yet we--our best selves--may be dead--separated from God in Christ, and
therefore dead--and all our activity may be but as a galvanic twitching
of the muscles in a corpse. Is Christ our life, its source, its
strength, its aim, its motive? Do we live in Him, by Him, with Him, for
Him? If not, we are dead while we live.
This life from Christ is a resurrection life. "The power of Christ's
resurrection" is threefold--as a seal of His mission and Messiahship,
"declared to be the Son of God, by His resurrection from the dead;" as a
prophecy and pledge of ours, "now is Christ risen from the dead, and
become the first-fruits of them that slept;" and as a symbol and pattern
of our new life of Christian consecration, "likewise reckon ye also
yourselves to be indeed dead unto sin." This last use of the
resurrection of Christ is a plain witness of the firm, universal and
uncontested belief in the historical fact, throughout the Churches which
Paul addressed. The fact must have been long familiar and known as
undoubted, before it could have been thus moulded into a symbol. But,
passing from that, consider that our union to Christ produces a moral
and spiritual change analogous to His resurrection. After all, it is the
moral and not the mystical side which is the main thing in Paul's use of
this thought. He would insist, that all true Christianity operates a
death to the old self, to sin and to the whole present order of things,
and endows a man with new tastes, desires and capacities, like a
resurrection to a new being. These heathen converts--picked from the
filthy cesspools in which many of them had been living, and set on a
pure path, with the astounding light of a Divine love flooding it, and a
bright hope painted on the infinite blackness ahead--had surely passed
into a new life. Many a man in this day, long familiar with Christian
teaching, has found himself made over again in mature life, when his
heart has grasped Christ. Drunkards, profligates, outcasts, have found
it life from the dead; and even where there has not been such complete
visible revolution as in them, there has been such deep-seated central
alteration that it is no exaggeration to call it resurrection. The plain
fact is that real Christianity in a man will produce in him a radical
moral change. If our religion does not do that in us, it is nothing.
Ceremonial and doctrine are but means to an end--making us better men.
The highest purpose of Christ's work, for which He both "died and rose
and revived," is to change us into the likeness of His own beauty of
perfect purity. That risen life is no mere exaggeration of mystical
rhetoric, but an imperative demand of the highest morality, and the
plain issue of it is: "Let not sin therefore reign in your mortal body."
Do I say that I am a Christian? The test by which my claim must be tried
is the likeness of my life here to Him who has died unto sin, and liveth
unto God.
But the believing soul is risen with Christ also, inasmuch as our union
with Him makes us partakers of His resurrection as our victory over
death. The water in the reservoir and in the fountain is the same; the
sunbeam in the chamber and in the sky are one. The life which flows into
our spirits from Christ is a life that has conquered death, and makes us
victors in that last conflict, even though we have to go down into the
darkness. If Christ live in us, we can never die. "It is not possible
that _we_ should be holden of _it_." The bands which He broke can never
be fastened on our limbs. The gates of death were so warped and the
locks so spoiled when He burst them asunder, that they can never be
closed again. There are many arguments for a future life beyond the
grave, but there is only one proof of it--the Resurrection of Jesus
Christ. So, trusting in Him, and with our souls bound in the bundle of
life with our Lord the King, we can cherish quiet thankfulness of heart,
and bless the God and Father of our Lord who hath begotten us again into
a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.
This risen life is a hidden life. Its roots are in Him. He has passed in
His ascension into the light which is inaccessible, and is hidden in its
blaze, bearing with Him our life, concealed there with Him in God. Faith
stands gazing into heaven, as the cloud, the visible manifestation from
of old of the Divine presence, hides Him from sight, and turns away
feeling that the best part of its true self is gone with Him. So here
Paul points his finger upwards to where "Christ is, sitting at the right
hand of God," and says--We are here in outward seeming, but our true
life is there, if we are His. And what majestic, pregnant words these
are! How full, and yet how empty for a prurient curiosity, and how
reverently reticent even while they are triumphantly confident! How
gently they suggest repose--deep and unbroken, and yet full of active
energy! For if the attitude imply rest, the locality--"at the right hand
of God"--expresses not only the most intimate approach to, but also the
wielding of the Divine omnipotence. What is the right hand of God but
the activity of His power? and what less can be ascribed to Christ
here, than His being enthroned in closest union with the Father,
exercising Divine dominion, and putting forth Divine power. No doubt the
ascended and glorified bodily manhood of Jesus Christ has a local
habitation, but the old psalm might teach us that wherever space is,
even there "Thy right hand upholds," and there is our ascended Lord,
sitting as in deepest rest, but working all the work of God. And it is
just because He is at the right hand of God that He is hid. The light
hides. He has been lost to sight in the glory.
He has gone in thither, bearing with Him the true source and root of our
lives into the secret place of the Most High. Therefore we no longer
belong to this visible order of things in the midst of which we tarry
for a while. The true spring that feeds our lives lies deep beneath all
the surface waters. These may dry up, but it will flow. These may be
muddied with rain, but it will be limpid as ever. The things seen do not
go deep enough to touch our real life. They are but as the winds that
fret, and the currents that sway the surface and shallower levels of the
ocean, while the great depths are still. The circumference is all a
whirl; the centre is at rest.
Nor need we leave out of sight, though it be not the main thought here,
that the Christian life is hidden, inasmuch as here on earth action ever
falls short of thought, and the love and faith by which a good man lives
can never be fully revealed in his conduct and character. You cannot
carry electricity from the generator to the point where it is to work
without losing two-thirds of it by the way. Neither word nor deed can
adequately set forth a soul; and the profounder and nobler the emotion,
the more inadequate are the narrow gates of tongue and hand to give it
passage. The deepest love can often only "love and be silent." So, while
every man is truly a mystery to his neighbour, a life which is rooted in
Christ is more mysterious to the ordinary eye than any other. It is fed
by hidden manna. It is replenished from a hidden source. It is guided by
other than the world's motives, and follows unseen aims. "Therefore the
world knoweth us not, because it knew Him not."
II. We have the future consummate flower of the Christian life in union
with the manifested, glorious Christ.
The future personal manifestation of Jesus Christ in visible glory is,
in the teaching of all the New Testament writers, the last stage in the
series of His Divine human conditions. As surely as the Incarnation led
to the cross, and the cross to the empty grave, and the empty grave to
the throne, so surely does the throne lead to the coming again in glory.
And as with Christ, so with His servants, the manifestation in glory is
the certain end of all the preceding, as surely as the flower is of the
tiny green leaves that peep above the frost-bound earth in bleak March
days. Nothing in that future, however glorious and wonderful, but has
its germ and vital beginning in our union with Christ here by humble
faith. The great hopes which we may cherish are gathered up here into
these words--"shall be manifested with Him." That is far more than was
conveyed by the old translation--"shall appear." The roots of our being
shall be disclosed, for He shall come, "and every eye shall see Him." We
shall be seen for what we are. The outward life shall correspond to the
inward. The faith and love which often struggled in vain for expression
and were thwarted by the obstinate flesh, as a sculptor trying to embody
his dream might be by a block of marble with many a flaw and speck,
shall then be able to reveal themselves completely. Whatever is in the
heart shall be fully visible in the life. Stammering words and imperfect
deeds shall vex us no more. "His name shall be in their foreheads"--no
longer only written in fleshly tables of the heart and partially visible
in the character, but stamped legibly and completely on life and nature.
They shall walk in the light, and so shall be seen of all. Here the
truest followers of Christ shine like an intermittent star, seen through
mist and driving cloud: "Then shall the righteous _blaze forth_ like the
sun in the kingdom of My Father."
But this is not all. The manifestation is to be "with Him." The union
which was here effected by faith, and marred by many an interposing
obstacle of sin and selfishness, of flesh and sense, is to be perfected
then. No film of separation is any more to break its completeness. Here
we often lose our hold of Him amidst the distractions of work, even when
done for His sake; and our life is at best but an imperfect compromise
between contemplation and action; but then, according to that great
saying, "His servants shall serve Him, and see His face," the utmost
activity of consecrated service, though it be far more intense and on a
nobler scale than anything here, will not interfere with the fixed gaze
on His countenance. We shall serve like Martha, and yet never remove
from sitting with Mary, rapt and blessed at His feet.
This is the one thought of that solemn future worth cherishing. Other
hopes may feed sentiment, and be precious sometimes to aching hearts. A
reverent longing or an irreverent curiosity, may seek to discern
something more in the far-off light. But it is enough for the heart to
know that "we shall ever be with the Lord;" and the more we have that
one hope in its solitary grandeur, the better. We shall be with Him in
"in glory." That is the climax of all that Paul would have us hope.
"Glory" is the splendour and light of the self-revealing God. In the
heart of the blaze stands Christ; the bright cloud enwraps Him, as it
did on the mountain of transfiguration, and into the dazzling radiance
His disciples will pass as His companions did then, nor "fear as they
enter into the cloud." They walk unshrinking in that beneficent fire,
because with them is one like unto a Son of man, through whom they
dwell, as in their own calm home, amidst "the everlasting burning,"
which shall not destroy them, but kindle them into the likeness of its
own flashing glory.
Then shall the life which here was but in bud, often unkindly nipt and
struggling, burst into the consummate beauty of the perfect flower
"which fadeth not away."
III. We have the practical aim and direction which alone is consistent
with either stage of the Christian life.
Two injunctions are based upon these considerations--"seek," and "set
your mind upon," the things that are above. The one points to the
outward life of effort and aim; the other to the inward life of thought
and longing. Let the things above then, be the constant mark at which
you aim. There is a vast realm of real existence of which your risen
Lord is the centre and the life. Make it the point to which you strive.
That will not lead to despising earth and nearer objects. These, so far
as they are really good and worthy, stand right in the line of direction
which our efforts will take if we are seeking the things that are above,
and may all be stages on our journey Christwards. The lower objects are
best secured by those who live for the higher. No man is so well able to
do the smallest duties here, or to bear the passing troubles of this
world of illusion and change, or to wring the last drop of sweetness out
of swiftly fleeting joys, as he to whom everything on earth is dwarfed
by the eternity beyond, as some hut beside a palace, and is great
because it is like a little window a foot square through which infinite
depths of sky with all their stars shine in upon him. The true meaning
and greatness of the present is that it is the vestibule of the august
future. The staircase leading to the presence chamber of the king may be
of poor deal, narrow, crooked, and stowed away in a dark turret, but it
has dignity by reason of that to which it gives access. So let our aims
pass through the earthly and find in them helps to the things that are
above. We should not fire all our bullets at the short range. Seek ye
first the kingdom of God--the things which are above.
"Set your mind on" these things, says the Apostle further. Let them
occupy mind and heart--and this in order that we may seek them. The
direction of the aims will follow the set and current of the thoughts.
"As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he." How can we be shaping our
efforts to reach a good which we have not clearly before our
imaginations as desirable? How should the life of so many professing
Christians be other than a lame creeping along the low levels of earth,
seeing that so seldom do they look up to "see the King in His beauty and
the land that is very far off"? John Bunyan's "man with the muckrake"
grubbed away so eagerly among the rubbish, because he never lifted his
eyes to the crown that hung above his head. In many a silent, solitary
hour of contemplation, with the world shut out and Christ brought very
near, we must find the counterpoise to the pressure of earthly aims, or
our efforts after the things that are above will be feeble and broken.
Life goes at such a pace to-day, and the present is so exacting with
most of us, that quiet meditation is, I fear me, almost out of fashion
with Christian people. We must become more familiar with the secret
place of the most High, and more often enter into our chambers and shut
our doors about us, if in the bustle of our busy days we are to aim
truly and strongly at the only object which saves life from being a
waste and a sin, a madness and a misery--"the things which are above,
where Christ is."
"Where Christ is." Yes, that is the only thought which gives
definiteness and solidity to that else vague and nebulous unseen
universe; the only thought which draws our affections thither. Without
Him, there is no footing for us there. Rolling mists of doubt and dim
hopes warring with fears, strangeness and terrors wrap it all. But if He
be there, it becomes a home for our hearts. "I go to prepare a place for
you"--a place where desire and thought may walk unterrified and
undoubting even now, and where we ourselves may abide when our time
comes, nor shrink from the light nor be oppressed by the glory.
"My knowledge of that life is small,
The eye of faith is dim,
But 'tis enough that Christ knows all,
And I shall be with Him."
Into that solemn world we shall all pass. We can choose whether we shall
go to it as to our long-sought home, to find in it Him who is our life;
or whether we shall go reluctant and afraid, leaving all for which we
have cared, and going to Him whom we have neglected and that which we
have feared. Christ will be manifested, and we shall see Him. We can
choose whether it will be to us the joy of beholding the soul of our
soul, the friend long-loved when dimly seen from afar; or whether it
shall be the vision of a face that will stiffen us to stone and stab us
with its light. We must make our choice. If we give our hearts to Him,
and by faith unite ourselves with Him, then, "when He shall appear, we
shall have boldness, and not be ashamed before Him at His coming."